ATF 12 Haints
by retirw
Summary: Vin' mental stability is called into question. Questions lead to a military response.


Haints

Monday, 1:00 pm

They were laying in wait for the deal to go down. Vin was pleased with the position he had found in a mass of girders next to the roof.

Ezra and Chris were expertly playing the role of the arms dealer like the pros they were. The undercover agent was at his best.

Vin grinned as he listened to Ezra weave his magic. He was currently playing the middleman trying to charm the buyer into getting on with the deal. Chris was perfect as the surly buyer. Typecasting as Buck would say. Finally the deal was closed.

"Freeze! ATF! Lay down your weapons" rang through the warehouse. Fast moving agents began arresting the suspects. Vin growled softly at a movement off to his left.

"Buck, north corner," Vin radioed.

Buck turned in time to see the perp draw a bead on Ezra. Buck yelled as he threw himself against Chris and Ezra as the crack of Vin's rifle filled the warehouse. The three men looked up from the floor in time to see the shooter collapse.

As the agent in charge, Buck called the scene twenty minutes later.

"Shit!" Buck yelled when he opened the case of 'weapons' to reveal bricks. "Now what do we do?"

Chris looked to the far end of the building where Tanner paced trying to decompress after the 'hunt'.

"Vin," Chris called softly. //Cowboy we have a problem.// Larabee tried to reach the too focused sharpshooter.

Vin slowly prowled toward them, staying well beyond reach. Chris indicated the case of 'weapons'. Nine other boxes had been opened to reveal bricks as well, and the evidence was now being recorded. A sharp nod was the only response from the tracker.

Vin continued pacing the room, wearing a frown. The others knew to leave him alone when he was coming out of the "Vin Zone" as Buck had named it. He froze, tilting his head seeming to be scenting the air. The others exchanged glances as Vin moved slowly toward the south corner, periodically freezing for long moments.

Team three just shook their heads and chalked this up as just some more of the weirdness that clung to Team Seven.

Vin moved rapidly to a section of crates as he zeroed in on whatever had attracted his attention.

"They's here," he called.

Agents converged on the corner. A box was opened revealing ten M-16s. More boxes were opened revealing the missing ordinance.

"Want to explain this Tanner?" FBI agent Mark Kost asked caustically indicating the boxes. The agent had made himself a problem, questioning every move made by the teams as they set up the bust.

An FBI kidnaping case tied into the ATF's gunrunning case, forcing some **interdepartmental co-operation.** They had been assigned Kost as liaison for this case and along with him came three other FBI agents. For whatever reason, Tanner seemed to bring out the worst in Kost.

"Luck?" Vin offered.

"How about the truth?" Kost demanded.

Vin tensed, pining the agent with a piercing stare. "Be real careful," he warned.

"You knew about the switch and just wanted to make yourself look good," Kost accused.

"Ya work at it or were ya just born stupid?" Vin asked.

"Vin's gonna clean his clock," JD moaned under his breath.

"Is that how the Magnificent Seven got it's name?" Kost sneered. "I'm suppose to believe you just happened to find the guns. A whole warehouse of boxes and you walked right to them," Kost accused.

Vin took a deep breath and turned to walk off.

"I'm not through, Tanner," Kost yelled as he grabbed Vin's arm.

"Buck, let's go," Chris ordered as he moved to rescue the FBI agent.

In a smooth motion Vin put Kost on the floor and stalked off.

Chris' cold growl stopped Kost's move towards his gun. "I'll let him kill you if you draw," Larabee snarled.

"He's nuts," Kost accused.

"Ain't tha one gonna shoot folks in tha back," Vin noted. When he turned a knife was revealed in his left hand.

"A knife?" Chris asked.

"Ya complained 'bout the paper work when I shot tha last idjit," Vin growled.

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Monday, 4:00pm

Two hours later Chris and Buck were in Travis' office explaining the altercation between the two men to the Judge.

"Where's Tanner?" Travis scowled. "I asked for him to be here too."

"Psychologist per the new procedures. He had to take a shot at the bust," Buck stated.

"I wasn't informed there was a shot fired." Travis stiffened looking thoughtful.

"We haven't got all the reports in yet. Vin's tied up with the Shrink and the FBI is moving like molasses goin' uphill in the wintertime," Buck explained.

"What was Tanner's problem with Kost?" Travis asked.

"He grabbed Vin after the shot. Vin was still a might twitchy. Kost's real lucky Vin wasn't feeling mean," Chris growled.

"If he's making a stink there's going to be an investigation," the judge sighed.

"No problem it's all on tape and Team three saw it along with three other FBI agents. Vin didn't even hit him. Just swept his feet out from under him," Chris responded.

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Monday, 5 pm

"Sorry Vin you have to ride a desk until the investigation's over," Chris said.

Vin stood expressionless, his look rivaling Ezra's best poker face.

"You can't go into the field until the shoot is cleared anyway. You know that," Chris soothed sensing the turbulence beneath the calm exterior.

"Is Kost gonna ride a desk?" Vin asked.

"I'll make sure of it," Chris promised.

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Tuesday, 9 am

"Chris, what's this?" Vin demanded the next morning.

Chris took the official looking paper Vin held out to him.

"What the hell?" Chris stomped to his office.

"Mister Tanner, is there a situation?" Ezra inquired.

"They's puttin' me on leave pending a psychological review," Vin looked bewildered.

Ezra strode into Chris' office and listened blatantly to the telephone conversation. The undercover agent cringed as Larabee slammed the handset onto the receiver. "May, I assume that Agent Kost has far reaching contacts?" Ezra asked as Chris continued to glare at the offending piece of office equipment.

"They want Vin to see their psychologist," Chris growled.

"It would appear that they are mounting an attempt to destroy Mister Tanner's credibility," Ezra decided.

Chris stood and moved reluctantly into the outer office. "Vin, I can't stop it. I tried," Chris sighed, noting the lost, almost frightened look on his friend's face.

"What does I do?" Vin whispered.

"Vin, will you trust me?" Ezra asked.

"Of course," Vin replied.

At any other time the expression on Ezra's face would have been almost funny. Josiah alone seemed to notice the look of wonder. Trust offered so readily was an unknown in Ezra's world. However, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone and the normal unreadable look was firmly back in place.

"Leave the rest to me." Ezra suddenly switched to his inscrutable best. "When is the review?" he asked.

"See tha psychologist tommra' at three. Review board's Friday," Vin offered.

"Three days. They're not wasting time," Ezra mused.

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Friday, 8:00 am

After an hour of testifying, Vin sat dejected, and feeling his career with the ATF was over.

Kost sat smirking in his chair while Chris grew progressively more sullen.

The FBI's psychologist meticulously mapped out his premise indicating that Vin was a dangerously unstable, antisocial, loose cannon.

Judge Travis' expression was unreadable as he called for Doctor Michael Campbell to be interviewed.

Vin's head came up and swung toward the door at the back of the room only to see Ezra standing in the doorway with a flashing grin that revealed the glint of gold and the dimples Ezra hated. He stepped aside, allowing the little doctor to enter the room, carrying himself with pride.

Tanner nodded to the undercover agent and received a two fingered salute before Standish shut the door.

"Doctor Campbell, please be seated." Orrin Travis indicated a chair.

"Who are you?" FBI Director Miller demanded.

"Doctor Michael Campbell. I am a licensed psychiatrist," Doc Mike answered.

"How are you involved with this case?" FBI psychologist Morgan challenged.

"I'm here to testify to my client's mental condition," Doc Mike grinned wickedly.

"Your client!" Miller huffed indigently.

"Two years!" Doc Mike snapped, pausing to let the information register with the review board.

"With what tiny grain of intelligence do you believe that you're qualified to determine Vin Tanner's mental condition?" Doc Mike snarled at Doctor Morgan.

"I am a clinical psychologist," Morgan retorted.

"With three month's practical experience," Doc fired back.

"I assure you I am eminently more qualified than you, sir," Morgan spoke cuttingly.

"Son, you ain't outta pampers," Doc grinned.

"I have studied under some of the premiere psychologists in the nation," Morgan thundered.

"Stevens, Chaney and Johnson," Doc nodded in agreement. "The boys said you could be a good councilor, if you lose the attitude."

Morgan sat gaping like a fish out of water.

"The name, son, is M. Collin Campbell." Doc grinned nastily, having firmly pulled the proverbial rug out from under the pompous man's feet.

Morgan paled and sat silently. This man before him had written most of the books he had studied and had mentored his best instructors.

Turning, Doc glared at the FBI Director. "Your boy stepped over the bounds."

"Your actions will be up for review and censuring." Doc addressed the now deflated Morgan.

"After a single thirty minute session Morgan is incapable of giving an accurate assessment of Vin Tanner. The behavior in question is reasonable, when taken in context." Doc sat back, confident in his opinion.

"Doctor Campbell, are you willing to give an assessment of Agent Tanner at this time?" Judge Travis asked.

"Vin Tanner is the most sane man in this room. Myself included," Doc Mike stated emphatically.

"Do you understand the situation in the warehouse? Director Miller demanded.

"Vin was in hunting mode. I'm truly surprised that he didn't kill him," Doc stated matter-of-factly and grinned evilly at Kost.

"You would have expected Tanner to kill my agent?" Miller asked in shock.

"He was on a mission. Kost interfered with that mission. Your man attacked Tanner. He physically tried to restrain him. Yes, I would have expected a fatal retaliation under the circumstances," Doc sighed softly and paused before continuing. "His unit knows to leave Vin alone until he has relaxed," Doc explained. "Vin is quite simply the best at what he does. Under the protective shield of his team you will never have a problem with him. His training will be of great benefit to the ATF," Doc finished.

"What training?" Miller asked Vin.

"I'se sorry, sir, that information is classified," Vin responded.

"Tanner, I expect an answer," Miller barked.

"Tanner. Devin James. Sergeant U.S. Army, 31-11932-4128," Vin retorted.

Doc chuckled, "You don't have enough clearance to even ask that question."

Miller sat back with a glare. "I will have my answers," he declared.

Vin calmly handed him the phone and dialed a number.

_Damn, Cowboy, you were in deep. _Chris frowned.

Tanner walked to the window, looking out, energy almost seemed to hum around his tense figure.

Miller gave his name and location to the speaker on the other end of the phone. Frowning he looked at the buzzing receiver in his hand. "Who did I just speak with?" he asked.

"Best not ask that," Vin responded vaguely.

Kost jumped to his feet "Tanner is dirty as hell. He had to be in on it," he declared, unwilling to admit defeat.

"How did you reach that conclusion?" Travis demanded.

"There is no way on God's green earth he could have known where those guns were otherwise," Kost barked.

"Gun oil," Vin answered from the window.

Chris grinned at Doc's amused look.

"You smelled gun oil?" Miller asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, Sir," Vin replied.

"You expect me to believe that shit?" Kost snorted.

"Yah cleaned yer gun this morning. Breakfree is tha brand a gun oil yah use," Vin answered.

Kost blinked in shock.

"Point and Match," Doc snorted in amusement.

"How the hell did you do that?" Miller frowned.

"Classified information, sir." Vin had an amused look on his face when he turned.

"What about?" Miller waved at the phone.

"Don' worry. They'll find yah." Vin smiled sadly.

"Judge?" Chris interrupted, now certain of the outcome of the review and ready to put this day behind them..

"Well, Bill?" Travis asked Miller.

"Review indicates Tanner is stable. He can return to full duty as far as I'm concerned," Miller declared. Looking troubled he finally asked "This investigation, how detailed are we talking about?"

Doc laughed. "Wear clean underwear."

"Damn, just what I need," Miller growled, glaring at Kost and Morgan. "Gentlemen, we will be reviewing your actions." Director Miller informed.

"Reckin we can go now?" Vin asked.

"Get back to work, Tanner," Orrin Travis said with a smile.

"I'm kinda hungry. Y'all want ta eat?" Vin asked Chris and Doc Mike as he hurried to the door.

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Friday, Noon

When Vin and Chris came back from lunch Buck nodded at Chris' office with a frown. "They just took over about ten minutes ago without even a how do ya do. Figured we could wait for you to handle it," Buck snickered.

Chris looked toward his office and the men waiting within.

//Couldn't be just a normal foot soldier could you?// Chris thought, resigned to the upcoming confrontation. He turned to his friend. Vin's eyes, which moments before sparked with life, were now cold and unreadable. He could have given Ezra pointers on a poker face.

"Assholes," Vin muttered as he entered the office behind Chris.

Chris glared at the Lieutenant currently occupying his chair. "Move your ass pretty boy," he ordered.

The Lieutenant rose slowly and moved to the other side of the desk.

Chris dropped into his seat and glared at the information currently displayed on the computer screen. The Lieutenant had been trying to access ATF files. Looking closer he hid a smile.

//JD's been keeping the pretty boy busy. He's got him chasing his own tailLarabee informed Vin as the tracker took up position on Larabee's left, standing at ease.

"You are?" Chris demanded.

"You don't need to know," the Lieutenant sneered.

"Figure he got his commission last week?" Chris asked.

"Nah 'member JD got him one outta a box a Capt'n Crunch," Vin answered.

The lieutenant flushed at the insult. The Sergeant and Corporal were unsuccessfully trying to hide their smirks.

The Lieutenant fired some questions at Chris, demanding to know just how much classified information Larabee had accessed and how he had obtained it. Every time Chris attempted to respond the Lieutenant fired off another question. Then he actually had the audacity to demand access to the ATF data base.

Chris' hands slapped the desk as he stood abruptly, the desk chair shot back hitting the wall behind him with a crack. "When you received that commission you were deemed an officer and a gentleman by the United States Congress. Get out of my office and don't come back until you can behave like one," Chris ordered, leaning over his desk toward the offending officer.

"You will answer my questions," the shavetail declared.

"Boy, your rank doesn't mean shit to me." Chris glared, now literally nose to nose with the young officer, only the desk separating the two men.

"Sarg'nt, Corp'ral yah best git," Vin warned softly.

"Rangers? Sir," the Sergeant asked Chris very politely.

"SEALs." Larabee gave a shark's grin.

The Sergeant shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, I am under orders to provide escort for Lieutenant Daniels."

"Vin. See that the Sergeant receives the Lieutenant's remains," Chris spoke over his shoulder as he moved around his desk to open his office door.

Buck looked up from his desk and grinned widely. Standing up he quickly walked over and opened the outer office door. "JD, go hold the elevator for these fellas. They ain't gonna want to wait," Buck chortled.

Chris made a shooing motion towards the door.

"Do you know who I am?" Lieutenant Daniels demanded.

"An incredibly pitiful example of a United States Army officer?" Ezra offered.

"Just another bullying little shit?" Buck contributed.

Chris sighed, grabbed the Lieutenant, and tossed him out of his office. The officer slid across the floor coming to an abrupt halt against the corridor wall as the Sergeant and Corporal exchanged miserable glances.

Josiah stepped calmly over the lieutenant, while he perused the file as he returned from Records. Entering the room he looked back and then at Chris.

"Go Navy," he muttered as he sat down and continued reading the file.

The two noncoms sighed and headed out . . . _after_ saluting Chris.

Buck calmly shut the outer door and went back to work.

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Vin stood looking out the window exactly forty-two minutes after the Lieutenant's undignified departure. The phone on Chris' desk rang. Vin moved to answer it, ignoring the glare Larabee threw his way.

"Yer twelve minutes late, Smiler," Vin spoke.

Chris hit the speaker phone, scowling at the phone hijacker.

"Sorry about that, Falcon. Not my style to send pups. You know that," Smiler chuckled.

"Thank Larabee for me," Smiler continued. "Golden Boy's gonna be spending some time in the dead files."

"Tell yer CO ta walk light. Larabee's a might pissed. Yah send somebody, they's best be housebroke," Vin warned.

"I will personally conduct the next interview, Falcon. At your convenience, Soft Foot," the amused voice continued.

Vin looked at Larabee, who nodded. "Yah can meet us at tha Saloon in fifteen minutes." Vin hung up.

"You know him?" Chris asked.

"Yep," Vin answered.

"Talk to him?" Chris questioned.

Vin nodded.

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They walked into the Saloon and quickly spotted the man sitting at their table. Chris paused, noticing he had pulled a chair over to sit in, leaving the other seats alone. _Smart enough not to challenge me on my own ground anyway. Career man by his looks. Vin doesn't trust him for some reason. Must be some history there. _

Smiler stood as they approached. "Tanner, Agent Larabee," he acknowledged.

"Captain Finley," Vin nodded as he moved to his seat.

Chris and Finley measured each other for a moment then shook hands.

"What stirred the pot?" Smiler asked softly.

"FBI weenie got his knickers in a twist," Vin drawled.

"What information do you want, Agent Larabee?" Finley finally asked when more information wasn't forthcoming.

"None," Chris stated coldly with a penetrating glare.

Finley stared for a moment. Suddenly he grinned "He does that almost as good as Stalker," he told Vin.

Inez brought drinks to the table.

"Your usual," Finley said.

//I won' drink wit' him// Vin 'said'.

Chris stared at the stranger.

Vin made no comment. Neither man reached for his drink. A sad look crossed Finley's face. He nodded, looking away.

"Anything you want to tell me?" Finley asked.

"Nope," Vin grunted.

Finley looked at Chris and got no reaction.

"Thank you for your time." The Captain rose. "Appreciate your not hurting the puppy," he sighed.

"Just rubbed his nose in his mess," Chris answered.

Captain Finley started to walk away then stopped. "Falcon, I wasn't involved in that mess," he spoke without turning.

"Know that," Vin whispered coldly "yer walkin' away ain't cha?"

Finley shuddered and turned at the not subtle threat.

"You shouldn't have any problems with this. FBI's going to be nursing some singed fingers," Finley allowed.

"Vin, watch your six. You asked too many questions when the Captain went missing," Finley whispered.

Vin nodded.

"Go Navy." Finley grinned.

Chris frowned, watching the Captain's hand sign north before he walked away.

"Captain Finley!" Chris called.

"Agent Larabee?" Finley looked back.

"Jackson said we need Vin's medical records," Chris answered.

"I don't see a problem with that. I'll process it separately so there's no confusion," he promised. Calmly he walked out.

Vin pushed the drinks to the end of the table.

"Man's between tha devil and tha deep blue sea. Was a good man," Vin sighed.

"Don't write him off quite yet," Chris admonished.

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Two Weeks Later

Chris gave a sigh of relief as he closed the file. Vin was cleared on all counts. Kost and Morgan had stirred up a hornet's nest getting the military involved. Kost probably wouldn't ever be in the field again. Morgan was trying to explain his actions to a license review board in answer to Doc Mike's complaints.

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One Month Later

Chris frowned as a uniformed Army Corporal entered team 7's office on a Monday morning.

"Is Sargent Devin Tanner here?" the corporal asked.

JD pointed to Vin.

"Sargent Tanner?" he asked as he approached Vin's desk.

Vin nodded and a manilla envelope was handed to Tanner.

"I need your signature, Sargent," the man requested as he handed Vin a clipboard. After getting the required signature the Corporal left, leaving a nervous Tanner studying the envelope as he turned it over in his hands.

"Aw, Shit," Vin growled and quickly opened the envelope, frowning at the contents. Opening the folder he read the enclosed letter slowly.

"Nate, here's them medical records yah wanted," Vin called over in a relieved tone and tossed the packet to Nathan.

"You want to look at these first don't you?" Nathan asked.

"Hell, Nate I wouldn't understand 'em anyway." Vin grinned.

"Expecting something else, Junior?" Buck asked in concern.

"I hate them envelopes," Vin admitted.

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Everyone was out of the office when Nathan finally had a chance to look at the records. After ten minutes Nathan laid down the file and shook his head.

_Helicopter accident my ass. How did he survive all this? Lord, the scars on the outside are bad enough. Vin would have died if it wasn't for that Israeli pilot. His own people left him to die. _Nathan blinked at his trembling hands. _Where do you get that kind of strength? He doesn't even seem bitter._ Taking a calming breath he continued to read. Nathan growled to himself and muttered angrily as he read through his lunch hour, having lost his appetite somewhere along the way.

Chris entered the room, glancing over he asked roughly, "Nathan are you okay?" Jackson was a peculiar shade of gray and obviously struggling for control.

"Chris, where's Vin?" Nathan gasped.

"He's in court today. Remember?" Chris answered in a worried tone. "Nate, What the hell's wrong. What's Vin done?" he demanded.

Nathan rubbed his face, taking a deep breath he spoke "I read Vin's medical history." Chris flinched back at the fury and pain in Nathan's tone. "What was done to that boy . . ." Nathan gritted, pausing to wrestle his emotions in check . "He was only twenty years old, Chris, younger than JD," he whispered.

"Nate, is there anything the rest of us need to know?" Chris frowned.

"Never use restraints on him. Never lock him in. Avoid places with no windows. Chris, when Vin needs to get some air. Make certain he gets it," Nathan emphasized as his fingers rubbed over the now closed file folder.

"Can you call and see if we can make copies of this? The hospital should have one and Vin's Doctor. Vin needs to put this one in a safe place too," Nathan listed distractedly.

"I'll get started on it," Larabee promised.

"Chris, I've never seen anybody live through something this bad," Nathan gritted hoarsely.

Chris called the contact number on the file. They were cleared to make copies of the medical files.

"I'm taking the copies by the hospital in the morning so I'll be late," Nathan informed Larabee.

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Nathan sat uncomfortably as Doctor Appleton read Vin's records.

"This certainly explains things," she finally spoke in a choked voice. "I'm flagging Vin's file," the doctor noted, laying down the folder with shaking hands.

Calling in a secretary she ordered. "I need all the drug reactions listed on a hazard sheet," she began. "Make a note that restraints are absolutely the last resort. His ATF team should always be allowed access to him," she dictated. "That includes having Doctor Jackson in the operating room."

_At least we know what we're dealing with now. _Nathan thought to himself as he left the hospital. He and Doctor Appleton had spent the last two hours hammering out guidelines they had set in place to determine Vin's treatment in the future. "The Care and Feeding of One Vin Tanner" Manual as the tearful Appleton had named the file.

Nathan looked toward Vin's beloved mountains and made a silent vow. _Vin Tanner, you've got family now. You will never have to deal with this alone again_.


End file.
